


One Hell of a Sales Pitch

by catgrump



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Retail, Awkward Flirting, M/M, Meet-Cute, Nonbinary Character, flirting at work, idk how to describe anything i write EVER, intimidating flirting, yo tags are weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29664141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catgrump/pseuds/catgrump
Summary: Shuichi's therapist told them to practice Self-Care.He doesn't think that THIS is what they had in mind.How did Shuichi get stuck with the hottest Lush employee?  No one else was able to help?  They couldn't be doing this on purpose, could they?
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 34





	One Hell of a Sales Pitch

I looked down at my phone and read the message I had been trying to avoid for so long. My therapist sent me "Homework this week: SELF CARE!" and included a link to an article describing examples. In theory, this should be easy enough, right?

This unfortunately meant I would need to be perceived. I had my headphones with me and I walked the floor of the local mall with my hands in my pockets, trying to keep myself as hidden away as I could. The sound of my own music drowning out the top-40 pop hits was a little overwhelming, but not enough for me to abort the mission.

I could smell the store from a block away. Hell, I think it starting drifting into my nostrils a couple of yards back. It's not as big of a deal as I'm probably expecting, right? Just go in, grab a soap or something, and I can go home after I pay. Easy. It's a super easy everyday mundane task that people do all the time.

Well, I walk into the Lush and I'm immediately overwhelmed. They're busy today. There are crowds of teenage girls over by the bath bombs, suburban moms smelling whatever they can get their false nails on, and practically every shelf had someone— customer or sales rep— standing by it. Nowhere for me to be alone. Maybe I should try again tomorrow.

But I'm already here. I'm standing in the middle of the store looking like a lost child, so of course, someone is going to bring their attention to me. And I'm making direct eye contact with them. They're slicing chunks off a very large bar of blue soap with their sleeves rolled up to their elbows, the black nail polish they wore contrasting against the metal tool they were using. Their apron was messy and well-worn, and covered in various buttons, including an enamel pin of the Bi flag— and I was kicking myself for noticing that immediately. They brushed green hair out of their face and I felt my jaw drop slightly, catching myself and quickly closing it back. They're hot. Fuck this person is hot and they're leaving the counter and approaching me oh god no this is a nightmare get me out of here right now—

"Hey, you need help with something?"

My eyes went wide and I jumped, coming back to reality. Here they are. They had a nametag that read "Rantaro: He/They". Same pronouns; that's fun. But then my eyes moved up. He's gotta be at least six feet tall and he has pretty eyes and an eyebrow piercing and one of his ears is totally decked out with hoops and studs and holy shit he's even hotter up close. He chuckled and asked, "You okay?"

How long were we just standing there in silence while I looked this person up and down? I swallowed and tried to choke out an answer, "Oh sorry, I kind of zoned out for a bit," adding nervous laughter as I took my headphones off. Maybe they'll think I didn't hear them over my music?

In an instant, I had to make a huge decision. Do I wander around the store aimlessly, not knowing what to do or what I want to buy... or do I tell the Hot Employee that I do, in fact, need help? If I denied his help and he continued to watch me as I walked around, he'd probably come back to me, anyway, so maybe I should just, "Yeah, I've uh, never been here before."

"Oh, well, welcome," they replied, and their smile was dizzying.

Is he the kind of person who knows he's hot and takes advantage of it? Or is he the kind of person who knows he's hot but doesn't think anything of it? Or maybe he's the kind of person who has no idea how hot he is and how having someone so attractive so close to me is making me lightheaded. He continued, "Anything in particular you're looking for?"

"Uh..." don't just stand there and 'uh': say SOMETHING, "Yeah."

They chuckled again, "What might that be?"

"Uh..." I fumbled moving my phone from my side to his view, "This?"

He leaned in a little closer and read the screen. "Well, yeah, we definitely got that here," he kept exhaling laughter when he spoke. Am I _that_ embarrassing? "Do you have any kind of Self-Care Plan? Are you out of anything like lotion or shampoo? Hell, we even got funky toothpaste you grind up with your teeth."

"Wait, you're gonna have to explain that one to me," Finally, I could think about something other than this person's looks.

"Yes! I love the funky toothpaste and I will take any excuse to talk about it to someone; come on, it's this way," he was so enthusiastic about this. It was really endearing.

I wove through people to follow them to the opposite side of the store and I pursed my lips as I scolded my brain for checking them out. They know how to buy pants that... accentuate.

I had to keep telling myself "he's just doing his job; he's just trying to sell you something; you're just here to buy something and get out" but that part of my brain seemed to be losing this fight.

I tried to pay attention as they explained how the chewable toothpaste works. I practically jumped when their hand was in my face, holding a bottle of the colorful tablets. Oh, they must be suggesting I smell it, right? I leaned forward slightly and did just that, noting the more distinct tropical scent. Better than I expected. "Okay, enough of me trying to oversell; you probably have toothpaste at home," they jested, putting the bottle back on a shelf, "if we're going for self-care, maybe we should try masks?"

He started moving again, this time toward a tray full of ice with a small refrigerator beside it. The ice tray was full of bowls of various colors of... goo, for lack of a better term. They each had small chalkboard signs planted in them like you'd use to identify herbs in a garden. They read various names, like a brown goo called 'Cup O Coffee', a tan goo called 'Oatfix', and a blue goo called 'Don't Look At Me'— which I relate to on a spiritual level. "Alright, welcome to the Mask Station," he said, leaning a hand on the counter, just barely dipping his fingers into the ice, "What's your skincare routine like? Feel like you're missing something?"

Do I... have a skincare routine? If I wore makeup during the day I'd use makeup remover and then a face wash... does that count? God, I don't wanna sound like an idiot in front of them, "Does makeup remover and face wash count?" Dammit, Shuichi!

And he was laughing. Was he laughing at me? I probably sound so stupid, don't I? "It technically counts!"

They picked up a wooden tool of some kind from the Oatfix bowl— it looked like a fancy popsicle stick— and said "Here, what do you think of this one?"

And suddenly his hand was touching mine and my heartbeat was out of control. He took a firmer hold on my palm and used the fancy popsicle stick to spread the cold mask across the back of my hand. "I like your nails," he said as I was avoiding sweating

I looked down at my fingers to remind myself what I'd done: just alternating black and blue, nothing special. But when I looked back at them to try to thank them for the compliment, I lost the ability to speak. They're making eye contact with me and smiling. Holy shit. This is the most intimate interaction I've had with another human being in a very long time. "So?" They brought me out of my trance, "Opinions?"

He let go of my hand to dispose of the stick and retrieve a paper towel as I lifted the back of my hand to my face to see what it smelled like. Oats. It smelled like sweet oats. It's nice, kind of comforting. But I couldn't forget the feeling of his hand against mine. "Um, I like it," I meekly suggested, then asked, "What's it for?"

I reached out to take the paper towel from their hands as they brought it toward me, but I froze in place when they took my hand again and wiped the mask off for me. Don't blush don't make it weird don't blush!!

"I figured if you're just using face wash then your skin might get dry. Oatfix is for moisturizing and exfoliating. You keep all our masks in the fridge, and when you're ready to use it, put it on your face and leave it on for 15 minutes, then massage it in to your skin when you rinse it off with warm water," I was taking rapid mental notes as he spoke the instructions, blinking rapidly as he talked, still processing the fact that he's so willing to touch me, "Instructions are on the packaging; don't worry."

Did they just wink? DON'T BLUSH, SHUICHI, DON'T MAKE IT WEIRD! Why did I have to be helped by the hottest employee on the clock? They're definitely smirking now too holy shit what is happening. "Um," I had to say SOMETHING, "yeah, I'll take it."

"Great," his smile is fucking alluring at this point and all this guy is trying to do is sell me things. He probably works on commission, too, so he can at least thank my hopelessly Queer ass for boosting his numbers. Then, he was suddenly struck with another idea. "If you like that, you're going to love this massage bar."

"Okay," I was just blindly following them like a duckling.

He brought me to a table in the middle of the store whose crowd has disappeared since I first walked in. He picked up a cream oval with a dark brown blotch in the center that looked almost like a black hole. "This guy is called Soft Couer," he put on a very exaggerated European accent. It made me laugh, and he seemed very proud for getting that out of me, "It's a massage bar, so it's like lotion, but solid. Here, let me show you—"

I have frozen once again. They held my hand and I couldn't stop the blush now, no matter how much I yelled at my brain to Not Make it Weird. They were gently smiling as they pressed the smooth material into the skin on the back of my hand, then put the bar down and used their thumbs to apply pressure across my hand, letting the aromas of cocoa and honey waft through the air as they made eye contact with me. Their pine eyes pierced into me as their fingers drifted from my hand up my wrist and onto my arm. "What do you think?" They whispered in a low voice. Do they know how fucking hot this is? How much my legs are trembling? How oddly soothed I feel having them touch me like this?

With a dry mouth, I held eye contact and said "I... like it," but I couldn't tell if I meant the massage bar itself or the massage I was enduring.

"I thought you would," he said under his breath, releasing his hold on me and smirking, "How about I ring you up?"

Wait, is this over? I'm flustered as all hell from this spontaneous interaction with a sexy stranger but this can't be how this ends.

I mean, all I wanted to do was buy some stuff and get out, right?

He retrieved a portable card reader from the pocket of his apron and I found my wallet and took out my credit card, trying to hide the weird disappointment from appearing on my face.

As they completed my transaction, they spoke again as my receipt printed, "Now, if you ever need any more recommendations or have any questions, feel free to give this number a call," and they took out a pen and scrawled on the back of the receipt, "But don't think this is standard for all of the store locations."

He got close to me, placing a hand on my shoulder and whispering in my ear, "It's a secret code. It means this is my personal phone number and I'm giving it to you because you're really cute."

My face was full of heat now. They squeezed my shoulder before turning around to go back behind the counter, "Don't be a stranger," they called

"Um, uh... I won't!" I exclaimed as I darted out of the store, clutching the paper bag of goods with all my might, staring at the receipt.

Once I was far enough away, I read what had been written. 'Hot Lush Employee: Rantaro <3' and a very clear phone number. I smiled with a quivering lip. This kind of thing never happens to me. On an impulse from chasing this weird high, I typed the number in my phone and sent a message right away.

'Hey, this is the guy you just gave your number to uh hi'

Immediately followed by:

'My name's Shuichi btw'

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write Rantaro/Shuichi forEVER but I had no ideas... until everyone in my Discord went NUTS about what they think the DR Characters smell like??
> 
> So uh here's the tier list I made that started this all: https://catgrump.tumblr.com/post/643682106431668224/the-discord-was-going-off-about-smells-today-so
> 
> Shoutout to Theo for helping me flesh out the premise of this fic!


End file.
